liberosis | bts

EVERY INDIVIDUAL MUST DESTROY BEFORE HE COULD FIND HIMSELF. He had to see the worst to rip open the artificial flesh he wore and meet the hidden piece of himself he lost somewhere among the old memories. He had to see the hell to reach the heaven, had to witness the darkness to cherish the light. He had to fall to stand over and over again until his legs got used to the weight put on him.

Humans were natural born egoists, it was in their flesh and blood to put themselves first until they met someone worthful. For how long, no one knew but it was an attempt little took and none regretted as at the end they found themselves, the most worthful one.

The first encounter had always been the hardest and somehow the most challenging one for those lived behind the walls they built up. The unknown yet familiar sense allured them as those were the monsters they either got used to living with or leave behind.

“What about those seven?”

The same question was asked frequently whenever the same tale ran over tongues and was turned over those, who willingly listened. It was interesting for them to hear the tale of self-search but that was still not enough for them to understand why those seven youngsters were pulled from society and were locked in a house of madness.

“Because they are survivors and survivors never leave their monsters behind.”

KIM SEOKJIN, 92

He was a quite different boy even as a teen. Maybe a little bit narcist and calm, too calm for his own good. His unique laughter was a bizarre melody that people, who met him even for once, could not forget and his beauty reminded them the most beautiful poem they heard sometime in a lifetime. Alluring, beautiful, tragic and candidly plain.

However, it was neither his laughter nor his beauty that engraved a spot in other’s memories for him. It was the deep scar that ran under his left eye to his jaw and stood paler than his own skin, and the soft scent of narcissus he had for the sake of his birth flower.

MIN YOONGI, 93

He often reminded people a book, not because he was easy to read, but because he always found a way to postpone the wanted answer to another page. And man, he had an endless amount of pages that not everyone was patient enough to read. Covered by ink and riddles, his emotions were there yet also were hidden from those, who did not know how to read them.

He was often called a lunatic just because of the voices that echoed in his ears and the old melody that could not leave his lips. However, some believed it was just a sign of a genius he did not admit to being over years. Though if one was thoughtful enough to ask him what he was, he would not hesitate to give them the answer. As by then even he was tired of reading the last page of himself alone and wanted to shout out what they wished to hear.

He was a lunatic, drunk by the wine his monsters offered.

JUNG HOSEOK, 94

He probably embraced the sanity more than other six of them did over the years he was locked in the room. He was quite obedient, calm and did not fear to allow a smile to claim a spot on his lips. Neither his eyes nor his lips carried the hatred and he lived a quiet life with what was offered to him. Until the night arrived and the wicked woken up in him.

He loved colours, many of them, so they were kind enough to give him a room alike canvas, where he could colour his dreams. And on his hands, nightmares did not appear black or grey, they were red, blue and green.

And he knew how to live with them.

KIM NAMJOON, 94

His words were venomous because of the amount of reality they reflected. Maybe it was why he did not prefer to tell them aloud and instead drew each of them on his own skin with a needle and ink. Though those once met him before he was locked in a room alone knew that he had a lot to say and his flesh was not enough to reflect each word that slowly burnt his heart.

His only wish as a child was to be a boy forever. Not like Peter Pan because he did not wish to stay short and childlike forever. He just wished to be a boy that was allowed to do mistakes and a boy who knew how to throw his head back and laugh until the world stopped. And to be able to do so; every morning he ran his finger on his own reflection that mirror showed to him and wrote a single sentence;

You need to live.

PARK JIMIN, 95

Maybe his only mistake was the need and want to be perfect. Not for himself but for those that expected a lot from him. To the stage that he was forced to be anyone but himself, to breath like a stranger. Hence, some believed it was the reason he found his freedom in insanity.

Unlike others, he never woke up with a frown on his face in the room he was locked in. Instead, he put a smirk on his lips and tilted his head to the camera that watched every move of his before he pushed the focus another side and jumped on his bed with a full grin on his face.

In a lonely place, away from people, he was himself.

KIM TAEHYUNG, 95

He was the hardest one to control, especially on the nights he woke up and claimed that his hands were covered by the blood of a stranger, who he once cherished. His tears were dry but his screams, those were the most painful to listen even to those that never met the real him.

However, it was not made him dangerous. It was the emptiness he felt and the smile he wore the very next morning he woke up and recalled not a single memory of the previous night. He was gifted to live every day like a newborn or maybe cursed to lose himself in memories he was never meant to remember.

Never again.

JEON JUNGKOOK, 97

He just lived in the beginning and did not admit that the end arrived at a time that neither of them expected. For him, there was still too much to live and see, too much to laugh and cry. Hence, maybe that was why he came up with an idea to start again and stood up from where they forced them to fall. Even if his legs were no longer strong enough to carry him.

He was not as young as he used to be when they met but was the only one who knew where to find himself. He remembered every second vividly and that was more than enough for him to start all over again.

There is no real ending.

It’s just the place where you stop the story.

And the end is only the beginning.